Dreams
by Shigure's sweetheart
Summary: Severus Snape is alone at Spinner's End. He's commited the crime of the century. He thinks he can hide, unperturbed. But his dreams remind him of a dark past. Then he receives a visit from an old friend... [Book 6 spoilers] Short. My first. Flames! Ahh!
1. Unwanted Guests?

** Chapter 1**

"Dumbledore is dead. I killed him." Snape whispered to the otherwise empty room, his voice full of a mix of fear and jubilation. He had just woken from a dream of horrific proportions, involving his midnight escape from Hogwarts, and he wearily stared around his dimly lit living room, where he had fallen asleep.

"What achievement that was." said a high pitched voice. Snape turned around in his seat to find Wormtail standing in the entrance of his bookshelf hiding place.

"You, Wormtail- I need to relax; fetch me a cup of…" Snape started to say, but Wormtail cut him off.

"I've made it clear that I am not your servant!" Wormtail stepped out from the shadows and he looked as porky and clumsy as ever.

"You would look better with a gash across your face, wouldn't you Wormtail? I warn you not to be rash," Snape teased coolly. "The Dark Lord assigned you to me. And of course, you said last year that you would speak with him about your uses, or lack thereof, by yourself. I continue to treat you like a servant because you, so like yourself, played a _coward._" He laid a stress on the word, and Wormtail jumped at him in anger. But Snape raised his wand lazily, causing Wormtail to stop in mid leap, floating in the air. "Relax," Snape chided, placing the neck of Wormtail's ragged robes on a hook on the wall. "Just hang around for a while."

"Why, I ought to! You- let me down Severus!" Wormtail spluttered squeakily. But with a flick of his wand, Snape silenced him. The tiny man kicked and fought as much as he could, which made Snape smile. He relinquished Wormtail's voice.

"You are not much threat to me," he said. "But if you stop sneaking up on me and cooperate, you may be rewarded."

"And how is that?" Wormtail breathed, still lashing out.

"I will spare you a nasty scar, and the Dark Lord, he will be pleased with you. You remember what he did for you when you pleased him at his rebirth." Snape gestured to Wormtail's glowing white hand, which Wormtail was using to extricate himself from his robes in an attempt at freedom.

"Severus, why must you torture me? I… did- nothing to you."

"It is quite the contrary, Wormtail. Back at Hogwarts you were little Peter Pettigrew, one of James Potter's pathetic fans." Snape's eyes were alight with malice, almost mocking Wormtail. "You followed Potter and Black everywhere, applauding their every breath. I, on the other hand, I was Severus Snape, the greasy haired lover of the dark arts who everyone loved to hate. And when Potter ruthlessly ruined my school years and used my own spells against me, you were right there to beg for an encore. You claim you did nothing to me, nothing but encourage Black to kill me! But the tables have turned," Snape whispered with ice cold venom, a vein throbbing in his temple. "You betrayed your friends, and now the Dark Lord has handed you to me." Snape advanced on Wormtail, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Snape looked over, his expression unreadable. "Enter." He declared, as he sent a shower of sparks in Wormtail's direction. The magic caught Wormtail in the air, and he disappeared with a pop. The door opened and a blonde head poked out from outside. "Narcissa, I welcome you back. What causes your return to my happy home?" Snape said silkily, his eyes now turning to the entrance of his dark house; he re-lit the candles on the chandelier.

"Severus, I need your help," cried Narcissa Malfoy, running into the room. Behind her trailed a tall, cloaked figure. Snape bit back a retort, almost sympathetically.

"Please take a seat, make yourself comfortable." Snape gestured to his moth eaten sofa. As soon as the pair had taken seats, he summoned three glasses and a bottle of wine. They zoomed in and landed on the table, and Snape sat down.

"Severus, I need your help", Narcissa repeated. She was rather nervous, thus she couldn't sit still. She shakily downed a glass of wine, twitching and ringing her hands. Snape grabbed her wrists as he had a year before, nodding to the cloaked figure.

"Bellatrix, I presume?" Narcissa frowned awkwardly, and whispered to Snape.

"No, not exactly;" she nodded to the person beside her, who lowered his hood. Snape found himself staring into the face of a former student, his favorite student.

"Draco, what a pleasant surprise this is." He looked to the boy's mother. "I presume you want me to…" But Snape could not finish his sentence, for Narcissa had bursts into tears while she fought to remove her wrists from Snape's grasp.

"Protect my son Severus! Protect him from the Dark Lord, please!" Draco looked as though he wanted to interject, to say he didn't need protecting, but he held his silence.

"The Dark Lord wished your son to kill Dumbledore. I committed the deed as I promised, my job is done. Why would the Dark Lord be angry? The job is done." Snape stated, with finality in his voice.

"I told you last year! He wants to kill Draco, have revenge on Lucius. But you promised; we made the unbreakable vow!" Narcissa shrieked.

"That's why you kept badgering me last year, to save your own skin!" Malfoy yelled; Snape ignored him, but he let go of Narcissa's arms.

"You promised to…"

"Protect him from harm," Snape finished the sentence for her; he was caught. He could comply with Narcissa, and anger the most powerful wizard in the universe, or die; Snape weighed his chances. "Narcissa, what will happen if the Dark Lord discovers what I am doing for you, and finds my whereabouts? He will kill me, your son, your husband, and you."

"He trusts you Severus!" screamed Narcissa, her face obscured by her fair hair. "Surely you can convince him that your actions will aid him!"

"But I do not know how saving Draco will help him take over our world!" Narcissa started shrieking even louder at this. Snape lost his temper, and banged his fist upon the table causing his wine glass to fall off over the edge. "Contain yourself. If you wish to hide something from the Dark Lord, you mustn't wear your heart on your sleeve!" Snape took deep breaths after saying this, realizing he had not felt as furious since the fateful night when he had murdered Albus Dumbledore.

"Don't I have say in this? You kept bothering me last year to save yourself from death and now _you _decide my fate? I won't accept that, Snape!" Draco let the words burst from his mouth, as he stood up in indignation.

"Though I no longer teach you, you are to call me Sir, Draco. Narcissa, I will protect him for you. He will stay here, where I can watch him, and we will use the Fidelius Charm. I will be the Secret Keeper; the Dark Lord trusts me. And that way, there will be no little rats telling tales." He gave the book shelf a meaningful look and sent a spell at it, which made a bang. The three in the living room heard something scurrying away.

"But I don't need to be watched!" Draco said loudly, angering Narcissa; she glared at him and drew her wand.

"Hold your tongue! This man will save your life, be grateful!" she croaked. Draco cowered under his mother's shaking wand hand. "You act as if you don't need the aid, yet you cower under your own mother's wand!" Narcissa looked at her watch, "I must go now. Draco, here are your clothes and food." She gestured to a suitcase that Snape had not noticed before. She raised her wand higher. "Severus, will you charily watch over my son?"

"I will," Snape said flatly.

"Will you keep this secret from everyone, no matter what?"

"I will," Repeated the man. And he twirled his own wand, whispering incantations, and Narcissa disappeared.


	2. Nightmares and Disturbances

**Chapter 2**

Snape sat again, trying to concentrate on the dream he had had. It seemed to be slowly trickling out of his memory like water from a watering can, falling to the ground and mixing with dirt. He tried to separate the dream thoughts from reality, wishing for a pensive. But siphoning your thoughts to where all can access them was too much of a hazard for a man on the run. Slowly, the dream came back; Snape saw it replaying in his mind.

He was racing through Hogwarts, the others at his heels. The wind blew cold in the dark grounds and the trees swayed; the cabin at the edge of the wood was blazing. A boy was in hot pursuit, his robes flying behind him, but Snape was faster. When Draco made it off grounds, Snape turned to find it was James Potter trying to catch him, not Harry. Cold fury burned in his heart. James flicked his wand and wrenched Snape's ankle into the air, shocking him, making him dizzy. All of the other Death Eaters laughed heartily, pointing. But suddenly, they turned to the girls by the lake and the others jeering from under the beech tree. They were chanting; Snape felt sweat pour into his black eyes. He started muttering a mix of hexes and swearwords. If he could just reach his fallen wand, he thought. Then James cried,

"Who wants to see me take off Snively's pants?" And then…

"You call this a house? What a hovel!" Draco cried, exasperated. Snape felt quite annoyed.

"In this hovel, you must stay Draco. Your life, and mine, depends on it," Snape responded stiffly. He squared his shoulders, trying to put the nightmare out of his mind. He had just agreed to protect this boy; it was not time to mull over his mortifying past. Plus, it all went back to teenage home and school life, which he would not enjoy reliving.

"I don't care if you die. And I'm not afraid. If I have to die for going somewhere remotely comfortable, I'll drag you down with me," Draco said, sounding as spoiled as always. Snape waved his wand, and all of the doors and windows seemed to be sealed. The boy felt the magic in the air, and he ran to a door and tugged at the handle. Then, he swung around, his face contorted with concentration; Snape's lip curled in a way he had always reserved for Potters.

"Sorry Draco," he teased. "You must be at least twenty to leave the building." "And," he added, looking at another concealed door," you cannot be an animagus. It seems that you and Wormtail will be great friends, trapped together." Draco slumped into a chair, miserable. All he could do around here was tease and brag to Snape's other captive, a fat little idiot. In this situation, his favorite hobbies did not seem fun. And the worst was, he was not in hiding for a crime he committed, but for a mission he was too afraid and inexperienced to complete.

"At least I have Wormtail," he sighed wistfully to himself. He thought of what was laughable about him: his teeth, his hair, how he turned into such a despised creature. But Draco could barely muster a single chuckle.

Snape beckoned to Draco a little while after this. He opened the bookshelf hiding place and the two walked up the stairs, Draco a little slower, carrying his suitcase. They entered a plain room with cob webs and dust. The walls were pearl gray and the hard wood floor looked as though it had lost its luster.

"Your bed," Snape said while pointing to one of the two identical mattresses covered with thin cotton sheets; on the other lay Wormtail. Draco wordlessly paced over to it, dragging his feet. When he looked back he saw that he had left scuff marks on the floor. "Meals are at six thirty in the morning, noon, and six thirty at night." Snape announced. Then he said "You are not free to help yourself at any odd time, I shall know what is missing." And he left the room.

Draco lay on his back, holding his wand, and shot red sparks at the ceiling. He wished to be alone, but had no choice now. He wasn't a child anymore, and his mother was no longer there to protect and spoil him; he knew it.

"What do you do all day?" he asked Wormtail, his voice full of a general contempt. Wormtail sat up and stared around, sniffing the air compulsively. "Spend too much time as a rat, didn't you?" Malfoy taunted. Some of his old swagger lingered, though the past year had changed him both physically and emotionally.

Wormtail squeaked, "I usually sit here, playing with magic. But I was never very good so it isn't so interesting." He gestured while speaking, and Draco saw his missing finger. Both inhabitants of the room spoke for a while, and Draco considered the short man next to him. "He isn't so bad," he reflected. "And with all of this time together, we might find a way to get out."

Draco rarely saw Snape during the weekdays. Draco knew that he was always out somewhere, planning and meeting. Snape proved very ill tempered, and Draco now sympathized with those who he had tortured, for he now knew how it felt to be the target.

One particular day, Draco had felt the yearning for adventure more strongly than usual, and had decided to explore the house once Snape had left. He crept through the dusty hallway of the top floor, cautiously opening doors. The fourth door seemed most appealing; an eerie glow shone from inside the room, and it reflected off the floor. And Draco decided to save it for last. After he had opened the others he moved back to the special one, with his palms sweaty and his arm shaking. How excited he was! He counted in a whisper, "One… Two… Three!" and wrenched the door wide open. Draco felt horrified to see Snape staring down his hook nose at him. He stood framed in the doorway of a room like Snape's Hogwarts office; all was in shadow. On the desk lay scattered papers and on shelves were jars with horrible pickled objects inside. They gurgled at him in their gooey liquid.

"I was going to see a friend of mine today, but I decided to stay home and study instead, and how I lucky that was!" Snape yelled menacingly, cold fury etched in his face. He barked, "Out! I never want to see you near here again!" Draco simply ran, breathing hard, back to his room. Then he lay on his mattress, his head pounding, and his mind working hard.

Meanwhile, Snape steadied himself in his chair, his anger causing him to shake. He was reminded of his father, the bully. Snape saw in his mind a view from the corner of the very house he sat in. His mother: cowering on the dusty floor, crying. And his father: yelling at her, with the same look in his face. Snape felt as he had so long ago, the urge to fight, to stop him. But they were gone now. Tobias and Eileen had died young, leaving their son in the dark, quite alone. Snape felt no urge to be like that man, who had caused him so much emotional distress. He realized now, that he was.


	3. The Haunting Never Stops

**Chapter 3**

For the next few days, Snape remained at home in the office, guarding his private stores. He had dreamt up many other ghastly sights since the night before Draco came. His mind had combined his father, and James Potter, and Draco's intrusion into an unbearable travesty of a vision. Snape couldn't figure how they all intertwined in his mind. Hate and fear and annoyance proved to be on different levels… a buzzing fly does not constitute murder. Snape pitied Draco somewhat. But he could not reconcile; he had remained a figure of solitude for too long. He felt that resilience should be stable: Nothing shall faze you.

"Let no one in, let nothing out," Snape breathed. He often recited this, as though it would increase his emotional stamina. Long ago he had started this, sheltering himself. It was as though he had the armor of a blast ended scroot. Snape slid off his chair and onto the dusty floor, his eyes half shut as he dozed off again.

The air was ice cold and swirling, as though the planet was having another ice age. Snape could barely make out the figure gliding towards him. It was tall, shrouded in a long cloak that trailed behind him. He stretched out a hand towards Snape, who recoiled. It was not a dementor, nor a fellow death eater. It was his father, looking furious. He only said one thing:

"You never were a good son." And then James Potter sidled up to the pair, laughing smugly.

"Hello Father," he called at the man in the cloak; Snape froze as his father flashed his rare leer of a smile. "What has happened?" Snape's asked in his head. The pair disappeared into the night and before Snape's eyes, Draco's face swam into view. He looked scared and vulnerable.

"Protect me, save me," he was whimpering. Snape backed into the darkness, shaking his head and… he woke up again.

He rose, shaking his greasy hair out of his eyes. "No more dreams," he whispered to no one. "No more…"


End file.
